Daughter of Shadows (To Darkness Bound Book 1)

by Zandria West

  ‘There are others?’ I say. My head is spinning. I understand that the spell Gabriel wrought has connected me to both the men who stand before me now. Even if I didn’t understand it, I can feel it – every cell within me answers to them, calls to them. It is like… a compulsion of a kind I cannot even describe.

  ‘Two others. I fear they are some distance away, since their Bondmarks are not yet visible on you.’

  ‘Are you sure they’re not visible, Gabe?’ Alexander looks at me and then looks at Gabriel and then looks back at me again. The grin he wears can only be described as wicked. ‘I mean, brother, let me guess. You did not wish to intrude so you only looked at her arms? Am I right?’

  I blush even deeper and swallow awkwardly. Do they expect me to strip off the way Alexander just did?

  Gabriel frowns. ‘Yes, Alex, I’m sure. I’d know if the other connections had formed. I made the binding, so I feel every thread of it. The power flows through me as it does through her…’

  ‘Are you two really brothers?’ I ask, as much for the change of topic as anything else. They look completely unlike one another. Gabriel is dark, heavily muscled, his face seeming to express a perpetual serious determination. Those eyes, so deep, so intense… And Alexander, is blonde, cheeky, slender, provocative on a whole other level.

  I see a glance pass between them.

  ‘Not technically brothers, no,’ Gabriel replies.

  ‘Technically, we’re not even the same species,’ Alexander mutters.

  My eyes widen. ‘Are you…’

  And then Alexander smiles, a slow, easy smile. I sense a shift, as though something within him is unfurling, and in a moment I see them – his incisors are fangs, sharp as knives. His gaze is predatory.

  ‘I’m a vampire. Gabriel is a warlock, and also not entirely human. He’s, you know, the great, great, great, great grandson of some God or other, isn’t that right Gabe? I’m sure it won’t be too long before he does some name dropping...’

  Gabriel frowns at Alex and turns back to me. ‘We have fought side by side for years, the four of us. We are not brothers, but there are some bonds that tie you even closer than shared blood.’

  Alexander’s eyes narrow. His teeth have not yet receded and I find myself unable to take my eyes off them. I’m horrified and terrified and fascinated. Some part of me wonders what it would feel like if my skin were punctured by them, the tiny wounds they would make, how the blood would flow…

  ‘Though of course shared blood is pretty damn good too, when you want to get to know someone,’ Alexander says in a low voice. He takes a step closer to me.

  Suddenly I’m just plain terrified. What am I thinking? He’s a goddamned vampire. I’ve seen what vampires do to human girls who make bad choices too many times since I started working at Hell on Earth. I back away, almost tripping in my hurry. In an instant, Gabriel is in front of me, his body between me and Alexander.

  ‘Please, Alex, enough. She isn’t used to your sense of humour yet.’ His voice is cold as a blade.

  Alexander raises his hands as though in surrender and takes a step back. ‘Sorry, Lana. I’m joking, mostly. I swear that I would never take anything from you that you did not willingly give…’

  All common sense and logic tell me the smartest thing to do would be to get away from him. Yet even through the fear, the horror, the confusion – I still feel the pull. And it’s not just whatever magic Gabriel has done on us. Alexander’s words, his posture, everything about him is drawing me to him. I open my mouth. ‘Tell me about the others,’ I manage to say, turning to Gabriel. ‘What does it mean, this… binding… You say that it’s for my protection, but it feels like more than that…’

  ‘All I will say about the others is that you will meet them soon enough. They are on their way here and they will give their lives to protect you. It is their purpose now… our purpose… And the binding…’

  ‘You know what it means,’ Alex says, finally dropping the smile and the swagger and meeting my eyes. The need is naked in his gaze. ‘You feel it too, don’t you? How deep the connection between us goes already? And it has only just begun…’

  ‘I… I…’ and then, out of the blue, something occurs to me. ‘Oh shit, I’m meant to be at work. Madame Trevelie is going to fire me.’ I groan and cover my eyes with my hands. Madame Trevelie doesn’t abide by lateness. Missing a shift entirely is something that just doesn’t happen when you work at Hell on Earth, if you want to continue to work at Hell on Earth. Maybe if I promise to do a million years’ worth of extra mopping…

  ‘About your job,’ Gabriel says slowly. ‘I’m sorry Lana, but I made a promise to your father. I don’t know that it’s going to be possible for you to return to Hell on Earth…’

  I sit up straighter and turn to look at him. ‘What? What do you mean? Why?’

  ‘Too many motherfucking demons,’ Alex says.

  7

  GABRIEL

  This isn’t going well.

  Alexander has scared her, I have angered her, and I seem to be unable to find the words to tell her all she needs to know. And worse, I have a sense, a growing dark unease, that all is not right around us tonight. Too quiet. It is much too quiet.

  I need to think.

  I excuse myself, hoping that it is not too great a mistake leaving her and Alex alone together so soon. It’s not that I have any concerns about whether Alex can be trusted – his words and manner are one thing, his actions always another. I would trust Alex with anything. But I couldn’t help but see the way she looked at him as though she were alternately lustful and terrified. I forget, sometimes, how the like of Alex can affect those who are not familiar with vampiric allure. I give him a look that I hope communicates more than I can say and make my way back down to the front entranceway. I stand by the door and listen, intently.

  Something is wrong. I should have heard news from Ruark by now. I should have known that Alex was approaching. The connection between us allows for almost continual communion – what he sees, I see. What he feels, I feel. But now, all I see is darkness.

  My worry deepens to fear.

  I pace in the doorway. This house is not well enough defended. I have set wards on the lower and upper windows, so none can enter who are not able to break the magic. Most demons rely on brute strength, and there are few other magic users in the vicinity, so I had thought that would keep us relatively safe. But tonight… something is building, something that I cannot see or hear. A power approaches, I sense it.

  I clench my hands to fists. This is my doing. I cast the binding too soon and with no explanation. I drew her here and into danger.

  I close my eyes and call through the bond to Ruark. In an instant I find him. I shudder with horror – he is hurt, struggling, blind.

  That is very, very bad.

  And then, I hear a sound coming from the front of the house. As carefully as I can, I peer from behind a curtain. The dimness of the lights combined with the magic I have set on the place should make such a small movement invisible to those outside.

  I see them. They are gathering.

  Most times when demons wreak destruction they do it joyfully, exuberantly, with great noise and extravagant violence. It is their silence that makes me certain they have learned that Lana is here.

  At their head, I see an enormous figure. A Vizayer as tall as two men, arms like boulders, wielding a heavy sword that looks as though it were wrought in hell itself. I have not seen his like in hundreds of years. The Vizayer are usually occupied standing guard over their master, who is defenceless still in his long sleep. Apparently tonight they have been given a more important duty.

  And then, I see that one of the demons is smiling and holding up something small and dark – a bundled-up cloth, it seems, or some piece of rubbish he found discarded on the ground. It only takes a moment before I see it for what it is: Ruark.

  My kindred. My soul.

  I see the demon hold my crow high and laugh. Ruark struggles – he li
ves! And then I hear the voices call – Come out, foul warlock… come out and claim your bird before we pluck him for the pot…

  In an instant, it is as though the paralysis that held me frozen, unable to think or to act, is broken.

  I let the curtain drop and race back up the stairs, taking them two at a time, desperately trying to think as I do. We need a plan. I must reinforce the protections around the house. My heart breaks, but there is nothing I can do for Ruark now. My only purpose is to protect Lana.

  I burst through the door. ‘They are here,’ I exclaim, and Alex immediately springs to his feet.

  ‘Where? How many?’

  ‘At the front of the house. Dozens, at least. And they have a Vizayer at their head.’

  I see the shock pass over his features, though he quickly smooths his expression to calm readiness – a skill I have been grateful for many times over the years.

  ‘What’s your command?’ he asks.

  ‘I will do what I can to strengthen the wards. You will take Lana down to the cellar. It is reinforced, and there is only one entrance, it’s the easiest place to defend.’

  Alex nods and grabs her hand. Only then do I allow myself to look at her. Her eyes are wide, and her face pale, but I see that she does not allow herself to show the terror I know she feels. She is braver than she ought to be.

  I take hold of her shoulders, feel the shuddering heat move through me at the contact, so my whole being is aglow with it. ‘It will be alright,’ I say. ‘I swore it to your father, and I swear it to you now. We will protect you.’

  I pray with all my soul that my words will prove true.

  Once Alex and Lana have made their way down into the darkness of the cellar, I take down my grimoire and find the incantation I used to guard the house. It is too dangerous to try and unmake it and replace it with something more powerful. I don’t have the time and I don’t have the energy, especially without Ruark on my shoulder to guide me. And layering different spells can lead to dangerous magical interactions. Layering is something I might do as an experiment, but not at a moment like this. The best I can do is re-make the ward that is already set, re-make it again and again, to weave together layers of protection that might have some chance to withstand whatever brute force the demons are planning.

  I set the tome before me on the table and run my fingers over the dark symbols. I close my eyes and begin to chant. It is harder than usual to remove my thoughts from my surroundings, to attain the required calmness and detachment. As I begin, I feel the thread glowing between myself and Lana – the connection so powerful for a moment it is all I am aware of. I touch it gently, hoping that she can sense my touch and is reassured by the contact, then I let it go.

  Some magic, like the binding that connects us to Lana, creates energy as much as it consumes it. The spell I’m crafting now feels more like building a stone wall. It gives nothing back. I must make it strong enough to withstand force. The making takes and takes and takes from me until I feel I have nothing left. I feel the chant within me now, rising louder, higher, the protection growing stronger. It is like a forcefield, shimmering around me, that I push outwards, out to the edges of the room, beyond the room to the walls of the house. It forms a barrier none will be able to pass.

  And then, through the haze of effort, I sense something – a disturbance, a challenge.

  Using the last of my strength, I cast my mind to Ruark’s.

  A woman approaches, dark-haired and beautiful. The demons part before her and allow her passage. I sense her power even before I make out her features. Her magic ripples and sparks. I see her stop and turn to the demon who is holding Ruark. She reaches out a hand and the demon passes my crow to the sorceress. I feel a terrible foreboding. For a moment I can make her out. She smiles. She strokes his feathers, her fingers lingering along his back and wings, around his neck. And then, there is an instant of sharp pain and all goes black.

  Ruark –

  There is not time to allow the grief to overwhelm me as I know that it will. The danger is greater now than I ever imagined. Because I know that smile. I recognise that face.

  She was there, almost a thousand years ago, when all this began. She sought to prevent it. I tried to kill her then, but she was too powerful. I nearly died trying. And now she has returned to wreak her vengeance.

  8

  LANA

  Did I ever mention that I’m scared of the dark?

  Seems funny really, seeing as how my entire life revolves around it. I’m the girl who works nights in a demon bar in Darktown – a job I fully intend to keep, if I can convince Madame Trevelie to give me one more chance. Hell on Earth is about as dark as it gets. At least, that’s what I thought until tonight.

  Alexander leads me down a steep set of steps into a space that is so pitch black I have no sense of its dimensions. A flicker rises into a gentle glow as he lights a lamp that is set on the wall next to the steps. Then he climbs back up and latches the trapdoor shut.

  He leaps down, landing easily beside me.

  ‘How will Gabriel get in?’ I ask.

  ‘He won’t. Not tonight. He’ll guard the house, and if they break through into the house, I will guard that door.’

  I shiver. So basically, I’m trapped in a warlock’s dungeon with a vampire I only just met, waiting to be overrun by a horde of demons…

  The cellar is made of bare, cool stone. I look around for something I could use to defend myself, if I had to. There are rows of shelves stacked with jars and boxes. Chests line the nearest wall. Tools hang on hooks. I spot a huge hammer – I could take a swing with that if I had to. If I could actually lift it, that is.

  As I stand there, Alex starts dragging oak barrels out from against one wall. He drags out one and then another and another, and then I see that he’s piling them up, so they’re wedged against the stairs. I don’t know how he manages to lift them, but somehow he does. And then I realise what he’s doing: he’s barricading us in. My heart starts to race. For a moment I’m overwhelmed by an image – flames rise around us. We’re trapped, unable to escape. I feel the searing heat, smell the smoke, the acrid, sickening stench of burning flesh. Holy fuck, I do not want to burn to death down here. I gasp, the cool air bringing me back to the present moment. The vision felt so real. Was it my imagination? A premonition?

  Whatever it was, it was horrible.

  I hear a clattering sound from somewhere in the back of the cellar, and then Alex walks back out with two blades. In his right hand, a huge and heavy sword with an intricately engraved hilt glints in the lamplight. The other sword he’s carrying is smaller and lighter. He tosses it in the air and catches it by the blade and then offers the hilt to me.

  ‘Do you know how to use one of these?’ he says. ‘Because there’s probably not going to be a lot of time for me to teach you.’

  I grasp the weapon with a shaking hand. ‘Nope. Sword fighting isn’t something I’ve ever had to do before,’ I say, trying to hide the quaver in my voice.

  ‘If they break through, stay behind me and I’ll do the fighting. If you have to do anything, aim for the soft bits – stomach, groin, face. Theirs not mine,’ Alex dodges as I accidentally wave the sword in his direction. ‘Be careful. That blade is fucking sharp.’ He places a hand on mine and lowers it gently, so the pointy end faces towards the floor.

  ‘I don’t get it. Why do they want to kill me so badly?’ I ask.

  I see a flicker of something in Alex’s expression – then he smoothes it over and shrugs.

  ‘They’re demons. You’re human. This is their world. It’s what they do. Don’t take it too personally.’

  The trembling has moved from my hands to my knees. The very core of my body seems to be shivering, like I’m really, really cold and just can’t warm up. I grit my teeth to stop them from chattering. For a second I’m pissed at myself – how fucking pathetic. Then I allow myself a little slack. We’re barricading ourselves from an attacking demon horde. I’d be crazy not to b
e scared.

  ‘If it’s any consolation, I’ve never seen anyone or anything get past Gabriel when he didn’t want them to.’ Alex grins at me, and I feel a little better. ‘Shall we sit down? It may be a long night…’

  He takes my hand and I follow as he leads me to the shadowy back of the cellar. I follow his lead and rest my sword carefully against the wall. ‘I can’t offer you anything comfortable to sit on I’m afraid,’ he says. He wipes down the top of a crate and I settle myself onto it. ‘But I can offer you this…’

  He pulls a bottle down from a nearby shelf and blows off a cloud of dust.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Something old and fancy and intoxicating. A bit like me, wouldn’t you say?’ Alex gives me a winning smile that makes me laugh. I can’t believe I’m laughing while I’m waiting to be skewered by a mob of pitchfork-wielding demons. He pulls the cork out and takes a swig, swills and then swallows. ‘That’s actually not too bad. Here. It’ll help with the nerves.’ He passes it across to me, then watches me so closely with those deadly blue eyes that the hairs rise on the back of my neck. ‘It’s okay, I don’t have cooties,’ he says, his voice a low growl.

  I lift the bottle to my lips and take a small sip. I feel a sudden rush of energy and vitality flooding through my body. I splutter and look up at him.

  ‘Gabriel went through a bit of a potions phase in the eighteenth century, stored a ton of the stuff down here. Nothing dangerous. Though it’s possible it may have some interesting side-effects…’

  In an instant, I know exactly what he means. I flush as a very particular warmth worms its way through my belly, into my groin, making me shiver not with fear now, but with the most basic longing.

  ‘Oops, sorry,’ Alex says, though he doesn’t look sorry at all. I try very hard not to look at the shape that is clearly shifting in his pants. He grins at me. ‘I wonder if Gabe has a Twister mat down here anywhere. What do you reckon, Lana? Would you be up for a game while we wait the demons out? Clothing optional?’